Discovery
by Dreamsinger
Summary: Helga saves Arnold's life, and over the next few weeks he learns why...
1. Default Chapter

DISCOVERY  
A Hey Arnold! Fanfic  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
Craig Bartlett owns all rights to these characters.  
  
1999  
  
Part One: The Danger  
  
  
"Come on, Phoebe, you can do better than that!" Arnold heard Helga yell rudely at her best friend. Arnold shook his head. Phoebe, a small, shy girl, might be the smartest kid in fourth grade, but she wasn't very good at team sports. Helga, on the other hand, always played as if she were really mad at her opponents. Few kids liked to get in the way of the tall, skinny girl, with her one long eyebrow pulled down in a ferocious scowl, large teeth bared.  
  
  
Arnold sighed as he watched Phoebe adjust her glasses and get a better grip on the bat. He knew Helga didn't have the patience to teach anyone how to play baseball. Probably Phoebe wasn't really interested in learning how to play, but she was too timid to tell Helga.  
  
  
"Hey Arnold!" Gerald called. Arnold turned back to look at the kite Gerald was flying. That was why they'd come to the park. Gerald, his best friend, had wanted to try out his new Pop Daddy kite.  
  
  
Arnold, you want a turn?"  
  
  
"Sure," Arnold answered.  
  
  
Gerald handed him the plastic stick with kite string wrapped around it, "Just don't fly it into those trees okay, man?" Gerald joked.  
  
Arnold watched as Helga, her stiff, blond ponytails bobbing, pitched her twenty-fourth ball to Phoebe, who swung and missed. Again.  
  
  
"Crimeney! I bet Gerald's little SISTER could play better than you!" Helga shouted.  
  
  
"Maybe if you didn't throw it so hard," Arnold called. "Take it easy, Helga."  
  
  
"Do you think the kids on the other team will take it easy?" Helga demanded.  
  
  
"No, but--,' he lowered his voice, "I just think she'd have more confidence if she KNOWS she can hit the ball. Try a couple of easy pitches."  
  
  
"Hey, who asked you, Football Head?" Helga glared at him. "Mind your own beeswax!"  
  
  
Helga was one of those people who have a hard time accepting help or advice from anybody. He had learned that if he volunteered a solution to the person's problem and then BACKED OFF, the person usually followed his advice--after a little time to think it over.  
  
  
"Never mind. Forget I said anything." He turned back to the kite, which was being blown too close to a tall tree.  
  
"All right, Phoebe, now remember: keep your eye on the ball." He heard Helga say, a little more calmly than before.  
  
  
She must have taken his advice, because he heard a loud CRACK! as Phoebe hit the ball.  
  
  
"I did it!" Phoebe said happily. All four kids watched as the ball flew a good distance away, landing in some tall grass by the park fence.  
  
  
"Not bad," Helga said with a smile. "Now go get my ball before someone steals it."  
  
  
"Not bad'?" Gerald repeated. "That was great!"  
  
  
Phoebe blushed.  
  
  
"I'll help you look for it." Gerald volunteered.  
  
  
Arnold smiled. Phoebe didn't really need help, but Gerald had sort of a crush on her.   
  
  
"Thanks, Gerald." Phoebe said shyly. She seemed to like being with him, too. Just as the two kids got to the fence, Gerald looked back at Arnold.  
  
  
"Arnold!" Gerald yelled.  
  
  
"Oops!" Arnold yelled as Gerald's kite flew into the leafy branches of the tree and immediately got stuck.  
  
  
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Helga laughed meanly. "Way to go, Football Head." She jeered. "Looks like you should've taken MY advice and minded your own business."  
  
  
Arnold made a sound halfway between a groan and a growl, which was how he usually expressed annoyance. He looked back to see Gerald waving his hand to him as if to say, "Well? YOU got it stuck. YOU go get it."  
  
  
So Arnold started climbing the rough bark of the tree, picking up a few scratches in the process. About thirty feet up he came to a pair of branches growing next to each other. He noticed because one was leafy, the other wasn't.  
  
  
Must be a dead branch. he thought. It creaked a little as he pulled on it, so he used the other branch instead, moving up diagonally around the tree.  
  
  
Gerald's kite was about forty feet up. It took about ten minutes of careful unwinding of the string from branches, and a few good tugs, until it was freed.  
  
  
He moved out as far from the tree trunk as he dared and looked down.  
  
Gerald and Phoebe were still by the fence, talking. Helga was the only person near the tree. She was watching him--as if to make sure he was safe.  
  
  
Arnold shook his head. Nah, that's crazy.  
  
  
Then he realized he'd forgotten to bring the string-stick with him. When he moved back in toward the trunk to climb down, the dangling string would get caught again. Unless...he could get a little help.  
  
  
'I got it!" He called down to Helga, holding the kite out. "Can you pull it away from the tree?" He shouted, taking a piece of string and moving his hand toward her, to give her the idea, in case she couldn't hear him. He hoped she would, for once, cooperate without an argument.  
  
  
Helga turned to look at the others, and then, to his mild surprise, immediately picked up the plastic stick and began reeling in the kite rapidly, before the wind could blow it back into the branches.  
  
  
"Thanks!" Arnold called, waving. Helga nodded and began walking toward the fence, carrying the kite.  
  
  
As Arnold climbed down he thought about Helga. She was a hard person to understand. She was so angry a lot of the time. She played mean tricks on people and laughed. She picked on Arnold most of all--even though he'd never done anything to her. Why did she act like she hated him so much?  
  
  
And yet--every now and then Helga did something truly nice--like the time she'd returned his favorite hat after the wind blew it away and he'd thought it lost forever, or the time she'd given up her ill-gotten finalist position to Phoebe in that contest...but she always got embarrassed and defensive if anyone made a big deal out of it. So, besides simple politeness, he mostly tried to ignore her behavior, good or bad.  
  
  
The one time he had retaliated, splashing some paint on her in class after she deliberately splashed him--she squealed and then got this terrible, hurt, ready-to-cry look on her face that made him feel instantly ashamed. Helga was quarrelsome, but not really bad, and after he got home from detention he felt so guilty he called her and apologized. She'd reacted with anger, of course, but he didn't blame her, then.  
  
  
Suddenly he was jolted out of his thoughts by the CREEAK--SNAP!! of a branch breaking under him! The dead branch!  
  
  
He grabbed for the branch above him as he fell, but only grasped handfuls of leaves and twigs.  
  
  
"Aaahh!" he screamed. Rough bark scraped by him; he wrapped his arms around it and with a painful jolt, opened his eyes to see he was hanging from the tree with his arms and legs wrapped around the halfway-broken branch. It was swinging back and forth, making horrible crackling sounds as the last shreds slowly began to part.  



	2. The Rescue

  
  
  
1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Two: The Rescue  
  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
"Help!" Arnold called out, panicking.  
  
"Hang on, Arnold, I'm coming!" he heard someone yell.  
  
"Helga?"  
  
It surprised him just enough to push the panic away, just enough so that he noticed the stinging scrapes on his face, hands, legs and ribs. His body was tensed up with fear--it was tingling and buzzing as if he'd stuck his finger in an electric socket. Arnold closed his eyes, feeling the branch twitch and shake as the wood snapped. If he fell, he would have a long, terrifying fall to the hard ground so far below.  
  
  
He could hear Helga huffing and puffing as she climbed as fast as she could. "Arnold, are you all right?" she cried, an amazingly short time later. His eyes popped open.  
  
  
Helga was trying to get to him but there were no nearby branches under him, only off to the side. She had scrapes on her face, hands, and arms, and a fearful, worried look in her eyes.  
  
  
"Arnold! Speak to me!" she cried out.  
  
" I think I'm okay," he answered, and saw a look of relief pass over her face, "but this branch isn't going to last much longer!"  
  
  
"Okay, stay calm." She had a very serious look on her face. As he watched, her lips pressed into a tight line of determination, though her eyes were still fearful.  
  
  
"I'm gonna climb out onto the branch next to the one that broke. Then you've gotta grab my hand when I tell you to."  
  
  
"Be careful, Helga!" he cautioned as she slowly crawled out onto the branch and lay facedown on it. "Come on, reach!" she cried, stretching out her arms as far as she could.  
  
  
He didn't let go. "You're too far away!"  
  
  
"You're right." Helga said. She was silent for a few seconds. His arms were beginning to ache from holding on so tightly. Arnold looked down, and sucked in his breath as he realized that the end of his life could be just seconds away. I'm sorry, Grandma, Grandpa. he thought sadly. First you lost my parents, and now...  
  
  
Helga interrupted his thoughts.  
  
  
"Arnold, I'm gonna try something." He watched as she got up and sat sideways on the branch. "Oh, please, let this work!" he heard her whisper in a pleading voice, surprising him again.  
  
  
Then Helga flipped backwards so that she was hanging upside down.  
  
  
"Okay, Arnold, grab my hands!" she commanded, holding out both hands, straining, her face starting to turn red as the blood rushed to it.  
  
  
He tried to let go and felt the branch give a jolt as another connecting piece splintered. "Ahh!" he yelped, tightening his grip as he swayed back and forth.  
  
  
"Come on, Arnold, it's about to fall, and you will too if you don't TAKE MY HAND!" Helga yelled.  
  
  
He tried again, but another, harder jolt made him gasp and clutch at the branch, convinced he was falling.  
  
  
"Please, Arnold!" she begged. "Take my hand! PLEASE!" Helga actually sounded on the verge of tears!  
  
  
Arnold opened his eyes and looked her full in the face. There was such a look of fear in her eyes, of pleading and.....something else he wasn't able to put a name to...that he knew he had to try one more time.  
  
  
Yes! He caught her hand. She grabbed it in a grip that was so tight it was painful, but he was grateful for it. The branch creaked.  
  
  
"Okay Arnold. When I say "three", grab my other hand."  
  
  
He nodded. "One, two, THREE!" He let go and grabbed, just as the branch broke free and dropped with a series of thuds to the ground below.  
  
  
Then he was dangling from her hands like a trapeze artist. "Arnold," Helga panted from the strain of holding his weight. "There's no way-I can pull you up-so I'm gonna swing you until you can-hook your leg over the branch I'm on."   
  
  
"Right." He nodded.  
  
  
He tried to help her swing him, ans eventually Arnold was able to scramble up onto the branch. Helga was so tired he had to help her upright.  
  
  
For a few seconds they just sat, panting and getting their strength back. Arnold had to get used to the idea that he wasn't going to die after all. Helga had one hand against her chest as if to keep her heart from bursting through. Arnold smiled at her with half--shut eyes, feeling a warm rush of affection and gratitude toward her. She smiled back, looking tired and happy. Helga might be a bully at times, but she really came through when you needed her.  
  
  
Arnold became aware that his scrapes were stinging badly, and Helga must have, too, for she touched one on her arm and winced.  
  
  
"We better go take care of these." Arnold said. Helga looked up at him, and suddenly her lower lip trembled, her eyes filling with tears. With a little whimper she turned away from him, sitting with her head down, shoulders heaving, her hands clenched into fists on the branch. She made almost no sound, except when she gasped for air.  
  
  
"Helga, what's the matter?" Arnold moved a little closer down the branch toward her, still sitting astride it. "It's all right, Helga, we're safe." He wasn't sure exactly what she was crying about--but he didn't think it was from the pain. Helga Pataki was as tough as any boy.  
  
  
"Come on, Helga." He reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She twisted away. "It's okay. We're safe now... I'M safe--thanks to you. You saved my life." he said, smiling.  
  
  
She whirled to face him. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, and a look of agony on her face. "Don't you ever, EVER do that again! You hear me? I almost lost you!.....I almost lost you." she repeated in a quieter voice.  
  
  



	3. Reactions

  
  
  
  
  
1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Three: Reactions  
  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
Arnold looked at Helga in surprise. She gasped and clapped both hands over her mouth as she realized what she'd said. For a few seconds they just stared at each other.  
  
  
Arnold was astonished--of all the things she could have said to him, that was the last thing he would have expected! Could she really care about him that much?   
  
Then why had she always treated him so badly?  
  
  
Above her hands, her eyes were filled with a mixture of such fear and despair that he softened. Look at her. She looks scared to death. Arnold felt a surge of sympathy--and friendship--for her. He gave Helga his slow, sweet smile with half-shut eyes.  
  
  
Helga let her hands fall away from her mouth and smiled, in a much nicer way than her usual nasty sneer, and clasped her hands together in front of her. "Oh, Arnold, I--"  
  
  
"Hey Arnold!" Gerald called from below. "You comin' down, man?"  
  
  
"I guess he didn't see what happened." Arnold said, glancing down. He couldn't see much of the ground with all the leaves in the way. "Be right there, Gerald!" he shouted down.  
  
  
"Well, I guess we'd better go." said Arnold. Helga looked at him for few seconds, curiously expressionless, and then said in an unusually subdued tone, "Yeah. Guess you're right."  
  
  
She was between him and the tree trunk, where the easiest branches for climbing down were, so she went first. The climb down made him realize he hurt all over, from scrapes and bruises and strained muscles. Arnold could hear Helga muttering "Ow!" and other assorted sounds to indicate her discomfort. By the time they reached the ground she had that familiar scowl on her face.  
  
  
"What were you doing up there?" Gerald asked impatiently.  
  
  
"Helga saved my life!" Arnold replied enthusiastically. "A branch broke while I was climbing down. I thought my goose was cooked. Then Helga came up and pulled me to safety. You should've seen it, Gerald! She's a hero!"  
  
  
Arnold grinned at her, expecting to see her smiling back. To his dismay, she crossed her arms and said, scowling, "Yeah, well, don't make such a big deal out of it, Football Head. Don't make me regret saving your sorry hide."  
  
  
Arnold just stared at her, hurt and bewildered.  
  
  
"Now come on, Phoebe, I gotta go put some antiseptic on these cuts ... I don't wanna catch something from Falling Boy over there." Helga gave her usual mean laugh and walked away with Phoebe.  
  
  
"Man, Arnold, what a break." Gerald said sympathetically. "To owe your life to HELGA, the meanest girl in fourth grade! Not to mention your own personal tormentor. What a deal."  
  
  
Arnold didn't answer. He stood watching Helga walk away, talking with Phoebe. He had that solemn, thinking, looking-deeper-than-the-surface look he sometimes got on his face.   
  
  
"Hey, Arnold," Gerald's voice pulled him out of his reverie, "We better go put something on those scrapes."  
  
  
"Oh, yeah, right, Gerald."  
  
  
As they started walking, Gerald asked, "So what happened?"  
  
  
Arnold gave him a longer version of the rescue, but for some reason he left out the parts where Helga showed she cared about him. He had a feeling she would want him to keep it private.  
  
  
Arnold remembered the time he'd said to her, "...You think you're so bad. But deep down, I don't think you are. In fact, I have a feeling you're probably a nice, normal, sensitive person, and maybe one day, you won't be so afraid to show it."  
  
  
So he'd been right. Her toughness WAS all an act. She felt she had to protect her reputation, like Iggy.  
  
  
Why couldn't people just be themselves? He didn't understand--if you liked someone, why not show it? Helga as a friend would be so much better than Helga as an enemy...  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
"What's the deal, Arnold?" Stinky asked at recess the next day.  
  
  
"Huh?" Arnold turned his head and immediately regretted it. He was very stiff and sore after yesterday.  
  
  
"Gerald told us Helga saved your life yesterday." Sid explained. "But she won't talk about it."  
  
  
Harold added, "I tried to ask her what happened, but all she said was 'Get outta my way, Pink Boy, and if you ever mention that to me again, you're wormchow!'"  
  
  
Curly and Eugene walked up to the group.  
  
  
"Hey, Arnold, I just heard about your miraculous rescue. It sure was lucky Helga was there!" Eugene said with his usual cheerfulness.  
  
  
"I thought Helga hated you. Why would she save your life?" demanded Curly.  
  
  
They all looked at Arnold, curious to hear his answer.  
  
  
Arnold shrugged and said, "I guess she had her reasons."  
  
  
The kids all stared at him for a long moment, and then Curly turned to the others. "If you ask me, I'd say it was a case of temporary insanity."  
  
* * *  
  
  
At lunchtime Helga and Phoebe walked up to where Arnold and Gerald were eating.  
  
  
"Okay, listen up, Arnoldo." Helga sounded as sarcastic and bossy as ever. "Seeing as how I saved your life yesterday, I've decided how you can pay me back. You're gonna be my personal slave for the next two weeks. While we're in school, you can carry my books, wait in line for me at lunch, turn the handle on the water fountain for me, et cetera, et cetera, and after school you're gonna come over to my house and do all my chores. For two weeks. Got that?"  
  
  
She turned and walked away. Arnold looked after her, perplexed. He couldn't believe she was still acting this way toward him after what had happened between them. He'd thought Helga would begin treating him a little nicer from now on.  
  
  
"She sure didn't waste any time, did she?" Gerald said sympathetically. "Well, at least it's only for two weeks. You're probably lucky she didn't make it a month."  
  
  



	4. Ah, Servitude!

1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Four: Ah, Servitude!  
  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
[Back for more, are you? Oh, well, gimmie a cookie and I'll tell you some more of the story ... No, not that one. Ah, yes, chocolate chip! I really want to thank everyone for the nice comments on my story so far. And to answer the most-asked question-yes, there is more. Discovery is completely finished (after more than a year) with twelve chapters in all. I'll be putting them up three at a time whenever I get the chance, over the next couple of weeks. And now...read on!]   
  
  
  
  
Being Helga's servant was not a job for one with little patience, for sure! Nothing he did pleased her. She criticized everything he did and never missed an opportunity to make fun of him. She treated him worse than she ever had.  
  
  
"Poor Arnold," he heard Nadine say to Rhonda, Lila and Gerald in the hall. "Did you see what Helga made him do today at lunch?"   
  
  
"No, what?" asked Rhonda  
  
  
"She made him wait in the lunch line, and then sent him back and forth for ketchup and napkins and stuff. Then she made him put the ketchup on her hamburger, and she even criticized the way he did that!"  
  
  
Lila looked unhappy. "That seems kind of mean."   
  
  
"That's nothing." added Gerald. "Yesterday she made him sharpen her pencil EIGHT TIMES until she was satisfied with the point. I counted. "  
  
  
"Oh, well," Rhonda sighed. "At least it's only for two weeks."  
  
To avoid awkward questions, Helga had made up a story to explain to her mother why Arnold was doing her chores. Arnold went along with it, although he believed there was nothing wrong with the truth. Why should Helga want to hide something that she should be proud of? It wasn't as if there was some big secret she had to hide...  
  
  
Boy, Helga sure has a lot of chores. Arnold thought as he walked home one night. He suspected some of the things she told him to do were not her regular chores, but he didn't complain. I wonder why Helga keeps hanging around every afternoon? I know she likes insulting me, but you'd think by now she'd be getting bored with watching me wash dishes and vacuum.  
  
  
Even more puzzling was some of Helga's other behavior. Every now and then, out of the comer of his eye, Arnold thought he saw Helga looking at him with an odd expression on her face, but every time he tried to catch her doing it, she was always either looking off in a different direction, or else scowling at him as usual. And once, he heard her in the hall mumbling something in a strange, pain-filled voice quite unlike her normal scornful tones.  
  
  
But when he tried to ask her if there was anything wrong, she practically bit his head off! Then she ordered him to scrub all the soapscum off the bathtub.  
  
  
Arnold sighed. "And I thought we were going to be friends..."  
  
  
Mrs. Pataki spent most of each afternoon napping in her bedroom, so Helga was free to be as nasty as she wanted to Arnold. At first, he was hurt and disappointed at the way she was treating him, but his gratefulness to her for saving his life, plus his lifetime's worth of experience in ignoring her helped him tolerate it.  
  
  
But after a week of such treatment, even Arnold's considerable patience ware thin. He confronted her one day as she walked through the dustpile he'd just swept, tracking it back across the clean kitchen floor.  
  
  
"Looks like you missed a spot, Football Head." Helga laughed meanly.  
  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Arnold demanded suddenly.  
  
  
"What?" she asked, looking surprised but amused.  
  
  
"Why are you always doing things to me to make my life miserable? Why do you always single ME out? I've never done ANYTHING to you." He spoke in a low, serious tone of voice.  
  
  
"But you've been treating me like ... like dirt for as long as I can remember. All I want to know is why."  
  
  
Arnold expected Helga to just scoff and walk away, as she had always done. But to his surprise, her mocking grin disappeared. She took a couple of steps backward. "I don't single you out," she said.  
  
  
"Yes, Helga, you do. Other people have noticed it, too."  
  
  
"Oh yeah? Who?"  
  
  
"It doesn't matter. The point is, I've had to put up with a lot from you over the years, and I really think you owe me an explanation." Arnold said firmly.  
  
  
Helga looked uncertain as to how to respond. Obviously, she had never expected him to ask her such a thing directly. The hesitant look in her eyes reminded him of the brief glimpse of the real, inner Helga he had seen not too long ago...  
  
  
Arnold said quietly, "I always thought you hated me. But after what happened in that tree ... I just want to know why you feel you have to act the way you do. I mean, I always thought you were just acting tough to protect your reputation, but even here, when there's nobody around, you torment me.  
  
  
For a moment she seemed on the verge of answering. She opened her mouth, closed it, and suddenly the old, hostile Helga was back.  
  
  
"Well, maybe I do have a reason, but I'm sure not gonna tell YOU what it is. If you're so smart, why don't you use those keen powers of observation of yours to figure it out?"  
  
  
With that, she left the room, leaving Arnold with a strange mixture of frustration, puzzlement, and an odd sense that he had just received a genuine challenge.  
  



	5. Observations

  
1999  
  
DISCOVERY   
Part Five: Observations  
  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
Arnold's confrontation of Helga had one benefit. At school, she stopped demanding unreasonable things of him. At her home she would give him a verbal list of the day's chores and then disappear somewhere.  
  
  
Now, Arnold had a tolerant, forgiving nature, and a few days of decent treatment from Helga did much to restore his usual good humor.  
  
  
Without Helga's constant harassment, Arnold really began to notice things around the Pataki household. Like the way Helga's parents treated her--and each other.  
  
  
Mr. Pataki was always yelling--at the t.v., into the telephone, at Helga or her mother. Mrs. Pataki was more affectionate, but she was always either asleep or walking around in a daze. And both parents showered an unfair amount of attention on Helga's older sister, Olga.  
  
  
"It's incredible, Gerald," he said to his best friend as they lounged around Arnold's room one evening. "They've got an entire video library devoted to Olga, but not ONE of Helga. There's a whole room full of trophies that Olga's won, but not one of Helga's. I always thought Helga was exaggerating when she said her parents care more about her sister than they do about her."  
  
  
Arnold paused thoughtfully. "Grandma and Grandpa may not be the ideal parents, but at least I know they love me. I mean, half the time her own FATHER can't even remember her name. He either calls her 'Olga' or just plain 'girl'. It's like she's invisible. If I were Helga, I'd feel really bad about it."  
  
  
Gerald looked up from the Purdy Boys mystery he was reading. "So what's your point?"  
  
  
"My point is that I'm starting to understand why Helga acts the way she does. So loud and pushy. She HAS to be in order to get any attention at all from her parents. I mean, they talk about Olga, who's not even living with them anymore, more than they do to Helga when she's in the same room! "  
  
  
The next day something happened that gave Arnold another glimpse into that inner Helga. Arnold was mopping the kitchen floor when he overheard Helga, in the living room, asking her dad for some money. To buy a new 'journal'.  
  
  
"Whadda ya need it for?"  
  
  
"Daaad! " Her voice held a note of protest. (Apparently her dad had plucked her old journal out of her hands.)  
  
  
"What's this? Poetry?! I've told ya before, writing poetry's a waste of time and paper. What good is it? Is it gonna help you land a job?" Mr. Pataki bellowed. "Support a family? How many rich poets have YOU heard about lately, huh?"  
  
  
Eventually Helga managed to get her dad to give her some money. She left the house, slamming the door hard.  
  
  
So Helga writes poetry! I never would have guessed. Arnold thought, returning to his mopping. Then again, it DOES sort of fit the mental picture I'm getting of a fierce, high-strung, unhappy girl whose parents don't understand or appreciate her. Not that Helga makes it easy for them, with that attitude of hers.  
  
  
Still, Arnold felt kinder toward Helga after that. He knew a lot of kids from broken homes who were happier than she was, with both parents.  
  
* * *   
The last day. Arnold sighed, looking around the cafeteria. After today Helga can get her own lunch. The thought cheered him.  
  
  
He spotted Helga sitting with Phoebe at one of the little tables. As he approached them, he noticed that at the next table, Harold was eating lunch with Patti again.   
  
Arnold smiled and waved at them. Patti smiled back, nodding her head in a hello. Patti sure seemed a lot nicer--and happier--since Harold made friends with her. She smiled a lot more, and always said hello to Arnold when she passed him in the hall.   
  
Sometimes Arnold couldn't believe that the Harold who sat next to Patti, laughing and joking, was the same Harold who used to be such a bully. Oh, he still acted like a bully sometimes, but it had taken a lot of courage to defend Patti and admit that he liked her in public like that. And at his Bar Mitzvah...well, he had really grown up a lot in the past year. He was even doing better in class. It made Arnold feel really proud of his friend.   
  
Still smiling, Arnold surprised himself by saying jokingly to Helga, "And what will be Madame Helga's choice for luncheon today? Macaroni and cheese? Spaghetti? Duck a l'orange with a side of pattie de foie gras, perhaps?"  
  
Helga looked at him in surprise. Then, seeing his cheerful grin, she seemed to catch his mood. In a mock-haughty manner (with a small smile) she said, "I WOULD prefer the duck, of course, but I suppose I shall have to settle for a hamburger."  
  
"Right away, m'lady." Arnold bowed and walked away. He stifled a grin as he noticed that Harold, Patti, and a lot of other kids were watching them.   
  
As he was returning, Arnold saw Phoebe looking at Helga as if she wanted to say something but didn't quite dare. It made him want to laugh. He placed Helga's tray on the table and bowed again.   
  
"Your hamburger, m'lady."  
  
"Thank you, Arnold. Now, be off with you." Helga gestured with a flick of her wrist. "I shall signal if I require your services again."   
  
"As you wish, m'lady." Arnold bowed a third time and went over to sit with Gerald.   
  
As he walked away, he thought I'd forgotten what a great actress she is! I just had this sudden impulse to joke around, but the way she reacted, you'd think we rehearsed it! I wish she were friendly like that more often...  
  
Gerald was looking at him in amazement. "What was THAT all about? Helga's makin' you BOW to her now?"   
  
"No," Arnold replied. "I just felt like jazzing up my regular service. This is the last day, and after all, she DID save my life."   



	6. Strike a Blow for Love

  
1999  
  
Discovery  
Part Six: Strike a Blow for Love  
  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's viewpoint. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
Arnold ate the rest of his lunch in silence, contemplating his Puzzle. It's like Helga is two different people. he thought, glancing over at Helga's table where she sat laughing and joking with Phoebe. She noticed him looking and scowled at him.  
  
Arnold turned his gaze back to his lunch. I don't get it. She's friendly one minute and hostile the next. Will I ever understand her?   
  
  
  
  
  
  
As the final bell rang, Arnold waited for most of the other kids to rush out of the classroom before getting up. He was trying to think of a way to talk to Helga about her unfair treatment of him. This would be his last opportunity to have a quiet talk alone with her, to get things straightened out. Unfortunately, hadn't figured out the main challenge: why him? Unless it was because she knew he wouldn't fight back. No, there were plenty of other kids too nice or too timid who would be easy targets. Oh, well, he would think on the way.  
  
As Arnold started down the school steps he noticed the sky was clouding over, even though the dj on his favorite jazz station had promised "bright, sunny skies" that morning.  
  
As Arnold approached the alley that was a shortcut to Helga's house, he heard voices arguing. "But I DIDN'T, Helga! I'm certain I would never do anything like that." It was Lila's voice!  
  
Helga's sarcastic voice carried clearly. "Yeah, right. You just HAPPENED to come along and find this "mysterious message" on the wall."  
  
Arnold turned the corner to see Helga at the far end of the alley, with her back to him, advancing angrily on a worried looking Lila. On one of the brick walls was a large heart with 'Helga loves Arnold' written in chalk.  
  
"That's right, Helga." Lila answered nervously.  
  
"Don't give me that! Do I have 'gullible' stamped on my forehead?" Helga snarled as she used her hands to rub out the words.  
  
That's the same prank somebody pulled on me and Lila a few months ago. Arnold thought. But why's Helga getting so mad about it? It's just a dumb joke, and anyway Lila would never do something like this. Especially after ... Arnold smiled, thinking about how much he 'liked' Lila, even though she didn't 'like' him the same way.  
  
But he stopped smiling as Helga wiped her hands on her dress and started toward Lila menacingly. Lila backed away.  
  
"Honestly, Helga. I was just heading over to Sheena's when I decided to take the shortcut through this alley. I don't KNOW who wrote it. Really and truly I don't!"  
  
Suddenly Helga grabbed the front of Lila's vest. "Now listen, you and I both know you're the only--"  
  
"Stop it, Helga!" Arnold ordered as he hurried down the alley.  
  
Helga released Lila with a guilty, almost alarmed look on her face. She threw a quick glance at the wall, where the faint chalk lines could still be seen.  
  
Arnold moved to stand in front of Lila.   
  
"Stay out of this, Football Head!" Helga snarled.  
  
"Helga, what are you getting so upset about? It's just somebody's idea of a joke." Arnold said reasonably, trying to calm her down.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Hers!" Helga retorted.  
  
"Look, I'm sure Lila had nothing to do with this. After all--"  
  
"That's right. Take HER side!" Helga said bitterly.  
  
"I'm not taking anybody's side, Helga. I just think--"  
  
Again Helga interrupted him. "Look, I KNOW she did it, Football Head, because she's the only one who--" Suddenly she broke off. For a split second her face showed -surprise? alarm? and then she finished "--was in the alley when I got here. She was just standing there right in front of it!"  
  
"That doesn't prove anything, Helga, and you know it." Arnold said quietly.  
  
"Oh, what do YOU know, anyway?" Helga grumbled, turning her back on him and crossing her arms.  
  
There was an awkward silence. Then Arnold said, "Lila, show me your hands."  
  
"Sure, Arnold." Lila answered agreeably.  
  
Arnold looked at her hands. There was no chalk dust on them, even under the nails. He told this to Helga. Then he began again to explain that Lila would be the last person to play such a prank, considering what had happened when someone had played it on her. He took a couple of steps toward her, trying to get her to believe him. Lila repeated her plea of innocence.  
  
When they were finished, Helga still stood stubbornly with her back to them. Arnold considered telling Lila to leave, but he knew he had to convince Helga of the truth or she would just end up tormenting poor Lila as badly as she did him.  
  
Suddenly he was sick of her games. No matter what kind of home life she had, it didn't give Helga the right to make other people's lives miserable!  
  
Arnold took another step toward her. "Come on, Helga, Lila didn't have anything to DO with this. Admit it!" he demanded.  
  
"Look, Arnoldo, I--" Helga suddenly spun around, her fist clenched as if to shake it in Arnold's face, as she had so many times in the past.  
  
But he was too close. Her fist caught him right in the jaw. THWACK! Suddenly he was flat on his back on the asphalt, staring up at her.  
  
"Arnold, are you all right?" he heard Lila cry out.  
  
Dizzily, Arnold looked up at Helga. She was always threatening to beat him up, so he expected her to look triumphant, or at least satisfied. Instead, she was staring down at him with a frozen, horrified expression. Then she reached toward him, beginning to speak in a stricken tone of voice. "Arnold, I'm --"  
  
He couldn't help flinching away from her hand, and she jerked it back. On her face was the same terribly hurt look she'd gotten the time he'd thrown the paint on her. Suddenly she turned and bolted out of the alley.  
  
Lila helped Arnold up. "Are you okay?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so." he answered, rubbing his sore jaw. "I wonder what made her run off like that?" I mean, for once it was just an accident. he thought.  
  
"Oh, honestly, Arnold!" For the first time, Lila actually seemed irritated--and at HIM! "For someone so smart, there are times when you can be so ... exasperating!"  
  
Arnold blinked. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Lila looked flustered. "Oh, well...well...I really can't say..."   
  
She glanced at the faint chalk marks on the wall and then looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.   
  
Arnold looked at the wall curiously, and then...everything clicked. "What?! No way."   
  
Lila smiled at him.  
  
"This CAN"T be true. You're telling me that Helga G. Pataki actually LIKES me-likes me?!"  
  
  



	7. Enlightenment

  
1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Seven: Enlightenment  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
"Lila, this can't be true," Arnold repeated.  
  
Lila looked at him solemnly, but only said, "Arnold, I think you and Helga need to have a long talk. I'll see you tomorrow. "  
  
Lila walked away, leaving Arnold standing there lost in thought. For as long as I can remember, Helga has always made fun of me and played mean tricks on me. Of course, there are times when she can be really nice, but .... she even told me once that she thought being mean and nasty was what made her special.  
  
It suddenly occurred to him that Helga's worst pranks were always done in front of an audience. Her reputation again. How can you ever get to know someone who won't let her guard down? He wondered, for a moment, if she acted differently when she was alone.  
  
Arnold sighed. I'd better find her and get this straightened out. He decided to check at Phoebe's house first.  
  
As he walked, strange, conflicting thoughts kept surfacing.  
  
"It seems like she's always pickin' on you in particular, Arnold"  
  
"Maybe she likes ya, Arnold."  
  
"That's crazy, Grandpa. She hates me.  
  
"I really don't hate you, Arnold. In fact, quite the contrary... "  
  
"...you little wing-haired spitwad! "   
  
"You seem so different tonight, so..."  
  
" Sophisticated?"   
  
"Well ... yeah. "  
  
"Doi! "  
  
"Move it, bucko!"  
  
..."Writing poetry's a waste of time and paper..."  
  
(Gulp) The PINK BOOK?!  
  
... Ever find out who your secret admirer is?  
  
No way, Arnold thought, alarmed. It CAN'T be hers. It just can't be ...   
  
Arnold was feeling very confused by the time he got to Phoebe's. She answered the door almost immediately.  
  
"Hello, Arnold." she said cheerfully.  
  
"Uh, hi, Phoebe. Um ... I'm looking for Helga. Is she here?"  
  
"Why, no, Arnold. I haven't seen her since I left school for my cello lesson. Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.  
  
Suddenly Arnold felt really awkward. Of course Lila was wrong. "Well, I'm sure it's nothing, Phoebe. We just ... sort of got into an argument and she ran off all upset. I just wanted to make sure she's all right."  
  
Phoebe came out of her house and closed the door. "What exactly were you arguing about? If you don't mind my inquiry. "  
  
Arnold hesitated. Phoebe WAS Helga's best friend...  
  
So Arnold gave her a summary of what had happened. He somehow managed to avoid saying exactly what was written on the wall. "..And I know she only hit me by accident..." his voice trailed off "I wouldn't even be here right now except that Helga acted so weird just before she ran off  
  
But Phoebe was not the smartest girl in school for nothing. "Exactly what was written on the wall?"  
  
He felt himself blushing. "Oh, just that --- well, it was one of those --- it was a heart with 'Helga loves Arnold' written in it. Of course, I told Lila there was no way it could be true. After all, everyone knows that Helga hates me. I'm sure it's all just been some kind of mistake ... right?"  
  
Arnold expected Phoebe to agree with him, so it came as a shock when she hesitated for a long time, then shook her head and answered sadly, "It's no mistake, Arnold. She's always been too shy to tell you."  
  
Arnold laughed. "Helga? Shy? Yeah, right. Come on, Phoebe, where's the joke?"  
  
Abruptly, quiet, undemonstrative Phoebe Heyerdahl grabbed him by the shirtfront. "It's no joke, Arnold! " she cried out. "It's true. She really does love you. She WORSHIPS you!"  
  
Phoebe released his shirt.  
  
Arnold was totally astounded by her fierceness. Then her words registered. He frowned in confusion. "Come on, Phoebe. Don't you think I'd have noticed?"  
  
Her voice rose in real distress. "Not if she didn't want you to! Oh, Arnold, she's a MASTER at hiding her emotions. I'm her best friend, but she even keeps ME at arm's length most of the time. I've never met a deeper person in my life--to really get to know her you have to look past the surface, past the mocking, violent facade she displays to the rest of the world...  
  
Phoebe continued before he could say anything. "She's been caught up in a cycle of misery and fear and hostility that she emphatically wants to alter, but every time she attempts to do so her emotions get in the way, until out of desperation she drops back behind her protective mask of contempt." "Oh, Arnold," she said woefully, "The torment she's directed at you is NOTHING compared to the much greater torment she's put herself through...  
  
Arnold was wreeling from the sudden rush of information. "But--"  
  
Lowering her eyes, Phoebe went on sadly, "Oh, Arnold, don't you see? She's so afraid of being hurt..."  
  
When she looked up at him he was startled to see tears in her brown eyes.  
  
Uncharacteristically, Phoebe put her hand on his shoulder. "Find her, Arnold." she said urgently. "Confront her and make her tell you the truth. She's been hiding this for so long ... Help her break the cycle."  
  
Arnold stared down at the small girl for several seconds, seeing the truth in her eyes, in her unusual fierce protectiveness. Then, not trusting himself to speak through the lump in his throat, he nodded and turned to walk down the stoop.  
  
"Oh, and Arnold?"  
  
"What?" He turned back.  
  
"Please don't tell Helga what I said. I'm certain you would have found out in the near future, anyway--she's been strengthening her resolve for some time now. But she probably would have preferred to tell you herself."  
  
He nodded again. "And you don't want her mad at you?"  
  
"That, too."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
As Arnold walked, he realized he was finally taking the whole situation seriously. And the more he thought about it, the more connections he'd never given much thought to now popped into his head, all mixed with Helga's typical behavior.  
  
"Watch where you're going, you little yellow-haired shrimp! "  
  
"Then why'd you kiss me so long?"  
  
"Hey, I was just ACTING, Football Head, I was just being professional. You think I WANTED to do that?"  
  
"MmmmMmmmmmMmm"  
  
"What are YOU lookin' at, geekbait?"  
  
"All I was trying to do was GET ALONG with you..."  
  
"Oh, Arnold, I'm FINE as long as you're near me..."  
  
"In case you've forgotten, Arnold, I hate your guts!"  
  
"She was taking advantage of you. I couldn't just..."   
  
"One side, moron!"  
  
"I almost lost you, Arnold. I almost lost you..."  
  
As Arnold was passing Freddie's Junkyard, something small and metallic came bouncing and skittering out across the pavement from inside, as though thrown by someone. It was a large gold locket with a picture of himself in it, smiling.  
  
Haven't I seen this somewhere before? Arnold thought, picking it up.  
  
Just then he heard something. It sounded like the wail of something or someone in distress. Orienting on the sound, he followed the crying to its source deep inside the junkyard: a short stack of old car tires. It was Helga.  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. The Big Moment

1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Eight: The Big Moment  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
Helga was sobbing as if her heart would break. She sounded so desolate, so full of grief and despair that Arnold felt his own eyes prickle with sympathetic tears. Immediately he started to call out to her, to offer her the comforting she obviously needed, but he was stopped by Helga's anguished voice.  
  
"Oh, Arnold, what have I done? (sniff) These hands, with which I long to offer comfort, and love, have struck thee down in a black moment of anger. Oh, I am a curs'ed creature, thoughtless and cruel! "  
  
Arnold's mouth dropped open. If he'd ever had any doubts that Helga regretted her past actions, that simple statement quelled them.  
  
She went on, "I once had hoped thou wouldst eventually see in me a person deserving to be loved and cherished. Now, (sniff) I know that day is not to be. I am not worthy of thy love...I TRIED, my love, so many times to be nice to you, but ALWAYS at the last moment my courage failed and instead I was reduced to petty insults and humiliating pranks."  
  
Arnold was suddenly concious of all those times he'd assumed that Helga was 'pretending' to be nice to him to set him up for some prank.  
  
She continued wistfully, "All I've ever wanted is to be close to you, and now... (sniff, deep breath) I have come to realize that the ONLY way I can give my love to you...is to leave you to Lila's tender mercies."  
  
Helga was quiet for a few moments. Then, just as Arnold began to speak she cried out in agony, "Oh, Arnold, I might as well tear the heart from my chest! I don't think I could bear it again--seeing the two of you together. It would be pure TORTURE! ... Ohh, what am I to do?" she whimpered brokenly, sounding on the verge of tears again.  
  
Arnold swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. He realized his eyes were prickling again as he listened to one of the most beautiful speeches he'd ever heard coming from the mouth of his classmate.  
  
She really means it. She loves me. She actually loves me. he thought in wonder. He looked down at the locket he held. Phoebe's words came back to him. "...Her torment is far worse..."  
  
Arnold felt a warm surge of empathy go through him for this passionate, lonely, suffering girl. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Helga? It's me, Arnold. Can we talk?" he said lamely.  
  
He heard a loud gasp. "Arnold?!" She sounded shocked. "Go away!"  
  
There was an awkward silence.  
  
"Helga, I'm not going anywhere. We need to talk." Arnold said in his most determined voice. Does she know I heard her ?he wondered.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry I hit you, okay? I didn't mean to." She sounded half apologetic, half annoyed.  
  
I'd almost forgotten. Arnold rubbed the sore spot. "I know. It was an accident." he replied soothingly.  
  
She didn't answer.  
  
"Come on, Helga, we really need to talk."  
  
"Please?"  
  
Finally she climbed slowly out and stood before him. She was scowling as usual, the only evidence that she'd been crying recently in the slight redness of her eyes and nose. She refused to meet his gaze, staring instead at the ground.  
  
"Helga, I--well, that is, I uh--" he stalled out. Clearing his throat, he thought, What should I say? Oh, by the way, I know all about your deepest secret--?"  
  
As Arnold hesitated uncomfortably, Helga grew impatient and finally said, "Well, spit it out, Football Head. I haven't got all day!"  
  
Suddenly Arnold couldn't help smiling at her. She was pretending to be tough once again, to hide her real feelings. But this time I know better.  
  
Helga looked a little puzzled at his smile.  
  
Just then, Arnold realized he was still holding the locket. Watching her closely with that 'solemn' look of his, he held it out to her and said quietly, "I guess ... this is yours."  
  
Helga didn't move. Her face went completely blank.  
  
Arnold realized his heart was pounding like crazy. His hands were ice-cold, and yet were sweating. If she took it, she'd be admitting to everything.  
  
If she didn't...  
  
  



	9. The Real Girl

  
1999  
  
Discovery   
Part Nine: The Real Girl  
  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
  
Arnold stood in front of Helga G. Pataki, holding out the locket.  
  
Why doesn't she say anything?  
  
She didn't move, standing there as if frozen.  
  
She looks...scared. Of me?  
  
And suddenly the last pieces of the Puzzle fell into place. When Helga said mean things to people, she wasn't really attacking them, she was protecting herself! He'd always known this, in a vague sort of way, but now he realized that HE was probably the thing Helga felt she needed protection from the most ... thus her particularly severe treatment of him.  
  
Wait. Are her hands shaking a little?  
  
Looking at the girl before him, realizing that one harsh word from him could devastate her, Arnold felt suddenly protective of this vulnerable, sensitive girl. And realizing the importance of her decision, he smiled warmly at her, his green eyes saying, 'It's all right. I understand now.'  
  
Hesitantly, her hand trembling violently, she reached out to take the locket. As her fingers closed over it, she looked directly into his eyes.  
  
Slowly, she smiled. It was as if a ray of sunlight had burst through the now-heavy layer of clouds overhead. Not a sneer, not a scowl, the smile she gave him was sweet, and shy, and full of hope. Her blue eyes were shining.  
  
Arnold blinked. The Helga he had always known was gone, replaced by a person he'd only caught glimpses of.  
  
A girl. Shy, caring, vulnerable. Compassionate. This was the girl who defended Phoebe from schoolyard bullies. The one who'd been such a wonderful Juliet in the school play, who'd tried to protect him from Summer. This was the girl who'd rescued him from the floodwaters in the biodome, even though they'd been arguing furiously just moments before. The girl who'd saved his life in that tree...  
  
As Helga lifted the locket from his hand, Arnold said quietly, "All my life you've been a mystery, Helga. I always believed you were a nice person deep down, but I just couldn't understand why you chose to act so mean and nasty all the time. The older we've gotten, the worse it's been between us. I guess ... the last couple of years I haven't been trying very hard. I didn't think you even wanted to be friends."  
  
"When I think that all this time, you've been guarding this secret ... It must've been really hard work, hiding your feelings for so long..."  
  
Helga spoke for the first time. "It was..." she whispered, confirming everything.  
  
After a long pause, she continued. "I've been in love with you since the first day we met."  
  
Arnold was astonished. "Really?"  
  
She nodded. "Hi." you said. 'Nice bow.' you said, sheltering me from the driving rain with your little umbrella. 'I like your bow,' you said, 'because it's pink like your pants.' I've been wearing pink ever since." she said simply.  
  
Arnold was amazed. "And you've been keeping it a secret ever since? Why?"  
  
"I HAD to, Arnold!" she burst out, looking upset. "The other kids would've made fun of us. And besides..." she added, dropping her gaze to the ground. "What if you didn't love me back? I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't let ANYONE know my secret. I had to become an expert at hiding my true feelings, so that no one would ever guess..."  
  
Her blue eyes filled with tears as she looked at him. "Oh, Arnold, you have no idea how many times I've TRIED to tell you. But I was always cut short by unforeseen circumstances ... or just plain cowardice!"  
  
Her voice held a note of the bitterness he'd heard from her so often. Startled, Arnold looked closely at her as he realized for the first time that the bitterness was directed at herself!  
  
Helga stood there with her blonde ponytails waving in the strong wind, her blue eyes dark with misery and self-reproach.  
  
Arnold felt an odd sensation go through him. It seemed to him he'd felt it before ... but not nearly as strong. It seemed to be mostly concentrated in his chest...  
  
He opened his mouth-  
  
Helga's eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the bruise on his cheek. She gasped. "Did I do that?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, this?" Arnold had to struggle to refocus his attention on her question. "It's okay, Helga, it doesn't really hurt. "  
  
Her face changed to a look of such loving gratefulness that he blinked and was silent. She spoke in the same passionate voice she'd used earlier in the tires, edged with tears. "Oh, Arnold, always the brave, noble soul, enduring without complaint all the terrible wrongs I have done to you. And yet in your eyes I see not an ounce of hatred, not a drop of vengeance. "  
  
Her voice trembled. "How can you do it, Arnold? How can you stand there and look at the person who has tormented you every day for the past six years and not hate me?"  
  
Miserably she crossed her arms, hunching her shoulders. "I hate myself " she admitted in a whisper, tears trickling down her cheeks.  
  
  



	10. What I See

1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Ten: What I See  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
"Don't say that, Helga." Arnold touched her forearm gently.   
  
She didn't move, staring at the ground between them.   
  
The sudden CRACK! of thunder surprised them. Large, warm drops of rain began to fall. Arnold and Helga looked at each other in silence as the rain went from sprinkle to summer downpour in less than a minute. The sky darkened to near-twilight.   
  
We'd better get out of this rain. Arnold thought reluctantly. "Come on, let's find someplace to wait it out." he suggested, knowing how quickly some storms pass.  
  
"Okay, Arnold." Helga said quietly. "How about in one of those?" She pointed to a couple of old cars sitting in the back of the junkyard.   
  
"Good idea."  
  
One of the cars only had damage at the front end, so the two kids got into the back seat. Arnold pulled the door shut with a sigh of relief.  
  
"Whew! What a day." Arnold smiled at Helga in the semidarkness, looking at her drooping bow and ponytails, feeling water trickle down his neck from his own limp hair. He tried to shake his head gently enough to get some of the water off without spraying Helga. Soon his hair was resuming its normal gravity-defying style.   
  
Helga, meanwhile, had set her locket down on the seat next to her. She'd removed her dripping bow, draping it over the back of the seat in front of her. Her damp hair, freed from its tight ponytails, flowed past her shoulders in shining blonde waves.   
  
"You know, I can't remember the last time I saw your hair down like that." Arnold commented. She didn't answer. "It looks good." He added somewhat lamely.   
  
At that, Helga finally responded, smiling shyly. Actually, it sort of reminds me of someone... Arnold mused, puzzled. Suddenly a look of panic crossed Helga's face.   
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Arnold! Look out! It's a RAT!" she shrieked, hysterical.   
  
And there was! A large black rat was clinging to the seat in front of her. Helga was pushing herself back into the seat as far as she could, letting out the small, wordless cries of someone truly terrified.   
  
Glancing around quickly, Arnold grabbed an old windshield scraper that had been left on the floor of the backseat and flung it at the rat as hard as he could. The scraper struck the rat, and knocked it, with a loud squeak, out the front window, along with Helga's bow.   
  
Arnold watched the rat scamper off. Helga sat stiffly, looking around the car in quick, paranoid glances. Then Arnold noticed her hands were trembling.   
  
She saw him looking and turned her back on him, sitting slightly hunched over in the dimness. Just like before, in the tree. In another flash of insight, Arnold realized, She was so scared. It must seem like a sign of weakness to her, so she tries to hide it. Like most of her other feelings.  
  
Arnold looked at Helga, sitting stiffly with her back to him, and impulsively reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He felt her jump at his touch. "It's okay, Helga, it's gone now." he said soothingly.   
  
For a long moment she didn't move. Then-  
  
"Oh, Arnold!"  
  
"Ooof!"  
  
Arnold suddenly found himself clutched in an awkward embrace. His eyes widened in shock. She sure is strong! It was sort of uncomfortable, and he didn't know what to do with his hands, so he just let them dangle.   
  
Helga clung tightly to him. He could feel her heart, racing at high speed. Every so often she trembled violently. Finally, after about a minute, she took a deep, shuddery breath and let him go.   
  
In the back of his mind he noticed that part of her hair was covering one eye. Now why does that look so familiar? I know I've never seen her wear her hair that way at school.  
  
Helga seemed embarrassed. Her cheeks went pink as she said, "Sorry, Arnold. It's just that...I HATE rats. I mean-"   
  
"It's okay, Helga." Arnold felt again that unaccustomed feeling of tenderness toward her; a protectiveness. "We all get scared sometimes. I understand."   
  
The two of them sat together in silence for several moments, each lost in thought. Helga tucked the stray hair behind her ear.   
  
Finally Arnold gathered up his courage and asked, "Did you really mean what you said? About hating yourself?"   
  
For a moment the familiar annoyed scowl appeared. Arnold braced himself for another scathing 'mind your own business' comment. It was so hard to talk to her, to get her to open up! Even when she looked like she really needed it. I always seem to say the wrong thing.  
  
Then, just as suddenly, the scowl vanished and a look of sad weariness took its place. Helga sighed.   
  
"Sometimes." She admitted in a small voice he hardly recognized. "I've hated myself for not being able to tell you how I feel about you. And...even my own parents don't care about me. Sometimes I think...maybe I'm not...I don't know...GOOD enough to love!" Her voice broke on the last few words.   
  
A single tear rolled down her cheek, glistening in the dimness as she lowered her head. Her hair fell forward to hide her face.   
  
"Oh, Helga." Arnold said softly. Imagine that...thinking your own parents don't love you. Both of them were silent for a long moment, listening to the rushing sound of the water falling outside.  
  
Yet another realization hit Arnold. Of course, if your PARENTS don't even care about you, how are you supposed to care about yourself? Or anyone else for that matter? But...she does.   
  
He remembered telling Gerald about how her parents treated her, as though she were invisible half of the time. But still...he wasn't ready to believe that even Helga's parents were that uncaring. Arnold said gently, "I'm sure your parents care about you, even if they can't show it. And ...maybe they don't appreciate you, but...do you want to know what I see when I look at you?"  
  
Slowly Helga raised her head, her hair covering one eye again, looking at him uncertainly.  
  
"I see the girl who brought back my hat after I thought it was gone forever. The girl who got us everything we needed to build my Cityday parade float. I see a girl tough enough to take on any bully at school, and brave enough to come looking for ghost trains."  
  
She gave him a very small smile. Encouraged, he continued. "Who always comes through when her friends really need her? Remember Mighty Pete? And what about Phoebe? You always stick up for her. I remember how you took care of her after she broke her leg."   
  
"Well, yeah, but-"  
  
"Helga-" Unconsciously wanting to reassure her, he put his hand on her shoulder. "You were there for me after Lila dumped me. And you tried to warn me about Summer. You've saved my life-not once, but twice. Once in the biodome. And once in that tree."   
  
Her face slowly lightened as his words sank in. Then...she smiled at him. Arnold blinked. When she smiled like that, it changed her face completely. She looked like a different girl...and oddly familiar.   
  
"I did, didn't I?"   
  
"You sure did, Helga. You sure did."   
  
They stared at each other long enough for Arnold to start feeling a little uncomfortable. Lifting his hand from her shoulder, he commented, "Hey, Helga, you know with your hair like that you remind me of...someone I...met..." He frowned thoughtfully. He almost knew it...  
  
Helga gave him a half-smile. "Did she speak French, by any chance?" she said softly.   
  
Arnold started. "Yeah, how did you....CECILE?"  
  
She nodded sheepishly. "Uh, huh. I wanted to be close to you, any way that I could..."  
  
Arnold couldn't speak. His dream girl...that wonderful, mysterious girl whom he'd spent so many hours thinking about...was none other than the girl right in front of him. No wonder it felt like I'd known her my whole life...and that she knew me, too. Why didn't I see it before?   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Feelings

1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Eleven: Feelings  
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, while HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
Cecile. Arnold was struggling with a lot of confusing new feelings. I wish I could talk to Grandpa. he thought, staring out the window at the pouring rain. It's so hard to picture Helga as anything other than the bully I've known all my life.  
  
His common sense told him to avoid the whole situation. And yet, every time he looked at her he felt again that funny feeling inside.   
  
Helga G. Pataki likes me-likes me. No matter how many times he told himself, it still felt as surprising, as wondrous as it had the first time. It also made him a little nervous.   
  
Apparently, Helga felt the same way. She kept giving him little peeks from behind the curtain of her hair, and smiling a little, and then staring down at her hands (clasped in her lap) again.  
  
But before he could sort anything out, Helga took a deep breath and turned to him. In her eyes he saw a lightness, a look of openness, of honesty, that he'd seen before in only the briefest of glimpses. "Arnold-" she began earnestly, but then she seemed to lose her courage. "I-I've wanted to tell you-" She stalled again. He saw her fists clench as she struggled to speak.   
  
Arnold replied encouragingly, "What is it, Helga?"   
  
Slowly, her face relaxed, as if she was finally realizing that she didn't have to hide anything anymore-that she was free to let the mask drop, free to finally let go of the caution, the secrecy. Helga smiled ruefully. "I guess it's time to bare my soul." Arnold noticed her poetic choice of words. Normally, he would have expected her to say something like 'spill my guts'.   
  
Helga took a huge breath, closing her eyes. After a few seconds, she opened them and focused on his face. "How shall I begin? Well...once I went to this old gypsy lady to get a magic potion to make me stop loving you. It turned out to be a fake, but for a whole day I believed I had no special feelings for you." She paused, taking another deep breath, her voice becoming more intense. "And you know what? I wasn't any happier. I could tell that something important was missing. I discovered that day that living without love for you in my heart was actually WORSE than seeing you every day and being utterly unable to express my true feelings for you."  
  
Arnold stared at her as her face took on a sort of...glow, her blue eyes shining as she looked at him. She almost looked as though she were in a trance.   
  
Then, abruptly switching moods in typical Helga-fashion, she suddenly asked, "By the way, how DID you figure out my secret? I could tell you didn't have a clue in the alley. Did Lila tell?" Her voice held a note of hostility.   
  
Arnold blinked. Technically, Lila hadn't SAID anything. And none of this was her fault. So, in the interest of keeping the peace, he said in a surprised tone, "Lila knew about this? Uh, well, I guess you could say I finally saw the writing on the wall."  
  
Helga stared at him for a long moment, then unexpectedly chuckled at his lame joke. Encouraged, he added, "Or maybe you finally knocked some sense into me."   
  
Her smile faded. She was silent for several seconds. Then, her expression solemn, she said quietly, "Arnold, I promise you-I will never hit you again as long as I live. I couldn't bear hurting you again."   
  
Arnold smiled, touched. "Thanks, Helga."   
  
After another few seconds, she tossed her hair out of her eyes and grinned at him. "But don't think that makes you safe from a few practical jokes!"  
  
Arnold stared at her, dismayed. She laughed, her voice half-mocking, half affectionate. "You should see your face! Honestly, the way you react sometimes-I can't resist! You're SO gullible! So innocent. So--charming."  
  
She looked astonished at her own admission, her cheeks turning pink. Arnold felt his own face blushing. "You-you think I'm...charming?"   
  
Her blush deepened as she looked away. "Well...yeah. But if you ever tell anyone..."Her voice lacked the hard note of malice he would have expected, reminding him again of the real girl underneath.  
  
"Uh, that's okay, Helga. I won't tell."  
  
Inside the car all was quiet, except for the sound of the rain. Arnold 's face wore its serious, 'thinking' look. He thought again how quickly Helga's moods changed-or seemed to. She IS a great actress. How many other things does she hide, to protect herself?   
  
Somehow he knew that all the complaining Helga did about her 'lame' family was, at least partially, to hide how terribly hurt she was at their disinterest in her.   
  
Or maybe it was to convince herself that she didn't care.  
  
And yet-how many people with families like hers decide to lo--to care about someone, to open themselves up to being hurt, instead of just shutting down, and turning off all of their emotions completely?   
  
He studied her carefully. She was looking out the window at the lessening rain, her hands clasped in her lap.   
  
How many people would decide to care? How long has she secretly...liked me-liked me...with nothing in return...Talk about devotion. Arnold thought with an odd mixture of awe and affection. It's kind of flattering, really, even though I'm not sure what I did to deserve it. I mean, I try to be a nice guy. And I like helping people. But I'm just a regular guy. Nothing special.  
  
He thought about everything he'd learned about her in the last two weeks. That poetry book's gotta be hers. From what I remember, she couldn't decide whether to be nice to me or pound me...I wonder if that's true for everybody. That the people you care about the most are the ones who bug you the most.  
  
His eye fell on the locket on the seat beside her. She noticed him looking and picked it up.   
  
"Haven't I seen that before?" he asked, struck again by its familiarity.   
  
She didn't look up at him. Studying the locket in her hands, which were resting in her lap, she answered, "Uh, huh. I knew it was dangerous to have it, but...I needed something to encourage me...to keep striving...a tangible reminder of my goal."  
  
"Goal?"  
  
She looked up at him, her blue eyes serious. "Confessing to you."   
  
"Oh."  
  
After a moment, she looked off into the distance. "You wouldn't believe some of the jams I've gotten into..." A note of humor crept into her voice. "Times when I inadvertently let something that would reveal my secret fall into unsuspecting hands. Yours, usually. I used to wonder if fate was against me, if something WANTED me to be exposed and humiliated."  
  
She was silent for a few moments, her fingers fiddling with the clasp on the locket. Then she opened it and looked inside. "But now...I think maybe somebody was trying to tell me something."  
  
Giving her a glance to ask permission, Arnold leaned closer to her to look inside the locket. He remembered now where he'd seen it. His grandpa had found it, and worn it around his neck until it had mysteriously disappeared. He remembered how curious they'd both been over what might be inside, even though they hadn't managed to open it.  
  
Obligingly, Helga tilted it so her could see. In the right half, some words were engraved in fancy lettering.  
  
'Arnold, my soul, you are always in my heart. Love, Helga G. Pataki'  
  
Something in the back of his head made a connection. "Now I know why you were such a good Juliet." Arnold said without thinking.   
  
Their eyes met. Suddenly conscious of how close together their faces were, Arnold sat up straight, blushing. He was struck by the memory of how it had felt, the times Helga had actually kissed him.   
  
Glancing at her sideways, he noticed Helga was also blushing furiously as she stared straight ahead. Actually, she was sort of cute, like that.  
  
Startled at the thought, Arnold looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. With her hair down, she looked so...different. Not the sophisticated, grown-up 'different' she'd been in the French restaurant where they'd ended up washing dishes, or even the dramatic, high-spoken 'different' she'd been when she'd played Juliet.   
  
This new Helga was...softer. More vulnerable...a real girl, with real feelings that he could touch, and be touched by. Now that he'd seen this side of her, he recognized her public behavior for the 'mask' it was, as Phoebe had put it.   
  
Just then Helga turned to him. "Looks like the rain's finally stopping." She reported as a beam of sunlight burst through the clouds directly into Helga's side of the car. Shining all golden-white, she suddenly looked like an angel.   
  
Arnold caught his breath. He felt again that odd twinge in his chest. Helga's blue eyes met his green ones, and for the first time in his life, he could read into their depths, unveiled.   
  
It was as though he could almost feel her emotions, so easily! There was pain, and loneliness......a lot of anger, and......misery......but......joy, too, and humor, and......love. So powerful! Overshadowing the pain.   
  
Then Helga looked away, clearing her throat. "Well, I suppose we'd better get home. I don't know about YOU but I'm starving."  
  
Arnold reluctantly shook off the spell she'd put him under. "I guess you're right."   
  
The two of them got out of the car, and began walking. They stopped at Helga's bow, lying muddy and limp on the ground.   
  
"Don't you want it?" Arnold asked when Helga made no move to pick it up.   
  
Slowly she shook her head. "I don't need it anymore." she murmured, smiling lovingly at him.   
  
He couldn't resist smiling back, as something inside him relaxed, finally accepting the astonishing events of the afternoon. On impulse, he held out his hand, looking up at her shyly.   
  
Helga looked at him uncertainly, then slowly placed her hand in his. The two of them smiled shyly at each other. After a few moments, Helga glanced upward, and she blinked. "Arnold, look."   
  
He turned to look in the same direction. There, shimmering faintly amidst the sun-touched stormclouds, was a rainbow.   
  
As they left the junkyard hand-in-hand, Arnold commented, "You know, I think I'm actually gonna miss that bow."   
  
"I was thinking about getting a smaller one, anyway...pink, of course. I look good in pink."   
  
Arnold chucked, enjoying joking around with her. He marveled at how different she was, yet still the same. This is the Helga I should have grown up with. So many clues, once I thought to look.  
  
He looked at her, watching strands of her hair dance in the gentle breeze. "You know, I'd probably have figured it out, eventually."   
  
"Yeah, right." Helga laughed joyfully, without a trace of her former sarcasm. "--Eventually!"  
  
They were almost to Helga's house when Arnold remembered Phoebe. "I stopped by her house while I was looking for you. She's probably worried. We should go and tell her that you're all right."  
  
"Okay. It's not like anyone HERE is gonna miss me." Helga's sarcasm was back.   
  
Arnold sighed, realizing both the truth of that statement and the hidden pain underneath. He had an impulse to protect her, to comfort her, but, for once, had no idea what to say. He could talk all day about how much her parents cared, but it wouldn't help. THEY were the ones who had to show it, for her to believe.   
  
The two of them walked side by side, but didn't hold hands. Arnold knew Helga was afraid of seeing someone they knew.  
  
Phoebe opened the door before Arnold finished knocking. "Helga, are you all-" Her mouth dropped open as she took in Helga's changed appearance.   
  
"I'm fine, Pheebs; thanks for worrying." Helga said sincerely.   
  
Phoebe's eyes went from Helga to Arnold and back several times. Helga nodded, smiling a slow, happy smile.   
  
"Oh, Helga, I'm so happy for you!" In another rare display, Phoebe hugged her best friend. "For both of you." she added as she released Helga.   
  
After a moment, Phoebe said, "So in retrospect, it appears that discovering the message on the wall was indeed serendipitous."   
  
"You got that right." Helga agreed.   
  
"Still, I confess to being curious as to whom the author is." Phoebe said thoughtfully.   
  
"It's not Lila." Arnold said immediately. Helga gave him a reproachful look, but for once didn't argue with him.   
  
"Maybe it's better that none of us knows." Arnold said after a few seconds. Helga's look of annoyance faded as she looked at him.   
  
"Oh, I guess you're right. I sure can't deny that whoever it was did me a favor."   
  
Phoebe smiled. "Well, I must return to my cello practice. I'll see you both in school tomorrow."   
  
"See ya, Pheebs."  
  
"Bye, Phoebe."  
  
"She's a good friend." Arnold commented after the door closed.   
  
"The best." Helga said affectionately.  
  
Arnold wondered if Helga would still think so if she knew what Phoebe had told him earlier. In a way, he was glad Phoebe had made him promise not to tell-even though he believed in honesty, he realized how betrayed Helga would feel. He'd learned that lesson from Iggy. And Phoebe hadn't really told him anything he hadn't already known--deep down.   
  
On the way back to Helga's they decided to take a detour through the alley. The chalk marks were barely visible now, after all the rain. Standing hand-in-hand in front of the wall, Helga said again, "I would really love to know who wrote this."   
  
"I did." came a voice from behind them.   
  
  
  
  



	12. The Last Mystery

1999  
  
DISCOVERY  
Part Twelve: The Last Mystery   
  
(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)  
  
  
Arnold and Helga spun around to see none other than Patti Smith, aka Big Patti, standing behind them. Helga seemed absolutely stunned, so Arnold was the one to ask, "But why would you do something like this?"   
  
He was shocked. Patti had always seemed so serious, so grown up. Up until now, Arnold had just assumed that the heart had been drawn by some kid with a grudge against Helga, who wanted to embarrass her in front of everyone.   
  
Patti had always been upfront and direct. If you did something to her, you got pounded. If you were nice to her, she was friendly to you. She didn't seem like the type to attack someone secretly like this.   
  
"'Cause you remind me of me, not too long ago." Patti answered in that serious way of hers, looking at Helga. "I had a crush on somebody once. I really liked him, but I didn't want anybody to tease me, so I picked on him a lot. I always figured I'd tell him someday, but then...he moved away. I never got the chance to tell him how I felt about him. It really hurt."  
  
She looked down at the ground, a sad look on her face. "I guess after that I started acting meaner or something, because I never wanted to be hurt like that again. Until I met Harold, I'd forgotten what it was like to have a friend. I didn't even realize how lonely I was until then."  
  
Patti smiled at them. "You guys have been nicer to me than anybody, except Harold. I wanted to do something nice for you. To give you the chance I never had."   
  
"You and Arnold are good kids. I know you'll be good to each other." Arnold looked at Helga. She seemed just as surprised as he was.  
  
Patti gave them one more sincere smile and turned to leave. She was halfway down the alley when Helga called out, "Patti--wait."   
  
Patti stopped and turned around, looking at them with no expression on her face.   
  
Helga hesitated, then looked at Arnold. Her face had the same look of painful indecision he'd seen in the past when she was struggling with her sensitive side, trying to say something, but not quite sure how...  
  
And this time Arnold realized all she needed was a little encouragement. He stepped up next to her and took her hand, giving her a 'you can do it' smile.   
  
Helga's expression softened, rewarding him with a tender smile. She turned to Patti and asked, "You want to sit with us at lunch tomorrow?"   
  
Patti's face was not the kind that showed emotions very easily, but Arnold could tell she was pleased. "Sure, that'd be okay. As long as you don't mind sitting with Harold."   
  
"Oh, no, please, not Harold!" Helga said in mock horror, rolling her eyes.  
  
Surprised at this unexpected bit of humor, Arnold couldn't help chuckling. He laughed more because he was happy that Helga was relaxed enough to joke with Patti, than because her joke was particularly funny.   
  
Even Patti grinned. "Okay, see ya tomorrow."  
  
"Oh, hey, Patti?" Helga said quickly.   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Patii gave them a friendly nod and left.  
  
The two of them stood looking at the brick wall. "You were right, Arnold." Helga said quietly.   
  
"About what?"   
  
"About making friends with Patti. I never would've guessed she'd be the one responsible for making my fondest wish come true." Helga gazed at him, her expression one of mingled admiration and wonder. "I don't know how you do it. No matter how bad a person may seem...they meet you, and suddenly they're not so bad after all."   
  
Arnold had never really thought about it before. It just seemed to him that no one was ever really as bad as they appeared. "I guess I just look for the good in people. And...I think some people just need to learn to believe in themselves."  
  
"Like me, you mean?" Helga's expression was unreadable.   
  
Arnold looked at her, appreciating anew the kind of person she'd managed to grow up to be, despite her parents' neglect. "Actually, Helga, I really admire you."   
  
Helga looked astonished. "Wh-what?"  
  
"Your parents have a lot of problems. And they really don't appreciate you. A lot of kids wouldn't have been able to cope." Arnold said earnestly.   
  
Helga shrugged. "I'm tough because I have to be--if I don't take care of myself, no one else is going to." Her voice was a little sad.   
  
Arnold thought of his own extended 'family' with fleeting gratefulness. He felt a twinge of sympathy, a desire to help her somehow, and still had no idea how.  
  
He went on thoughtfully, "Your sister learned that she could get your parents' attention by being the best at everything. You decided to do things on your own, instead of trying to impress them. I really admire that."   
  
"Well-it's not like I had a choice..." Now her face reflected her terrible loneliness.   
  
Oh, Helga. Arnold squeezed her hand gently to comfort her. He hadn't meant to make her feel bad.   
  
Do I like her-like her? I don't know. he thought, watching her silently suffering. But he knew he did care about Helga. A lot. And finally, Arnold knew what he could do, what he could say, to help ease a little of her pain.  
  
"Helga?" She looked at him wistfully. "I want you to know that you're not alone anymore. From now on, if you ever need anything...I'll always be there for you. I promise." He meant it.   
  
"Oh, Arnold!"  
  
He didn't expect Helga to throw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. But this time he knew what to do. He hugged her back. His face was half-covered by her hair, but somehow he didn't mind at all.   
  
  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
Author's Little Note: It took me a year and a half, but it's finished. I never realized when I started this fic that it would get so...involving. I enjoyed writing every bit of it, though. I may eventually write a sequel; who knows? But I really would appreciate any feedback...any at all...  
  
Dreamsinger  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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